A Day In The Life of Dallas Winston
by stay-goldKat
Summary: Dallas Winston is the toughest hood in Tulsa, but he does have one weakness. A kid named Johnny Cade. Takes place around the time that Johnny got jumped by the Socs. Characters are property of S.E. Hinton!
1. Chapter 1: Nobody Wakes Up Dally

A Day in the life of Dallas Winston

**All belongs to S.E. Hinton! Thanks for reading and hope you enjoy this fan-fic told in Dally's POV!**

_The man behind the bar handed me another beer as I tapped my empty glass. My gang was sitting on the rundown stools next to me all doing the same thing. Celebrating a victory over beating a rival gang. Ours had several, but I think that's mainly because we enjoy causing trouble. There was nothing better than beating the tar out of no good hoods-that weren't us! New York can be rough, but it was a good thing I was just as tough if not more so. Same with each of the ten members of our gang. My buddy, Charlie, was sitting closet to me and leaned over, about to say something-_

**Knock! Knock! Knock!**

Time for head's to roll! Who's knocking on my door, waking me up? I growl at the person at the door to come in and show their ugly mug. Sure enough, the ugly mug of Buck opened my door. I liked him well enough, but his Hank Williams was driving me crazy! I looked at the cracked clock on the nightstand: 5:30 in the morning. "What, Buck?" I asked curtly. It was never too early to bark.

Buck hesitated, but he said, "Yah gotta work. Took a bet and I need yah to jockey early today."

Surely he was joking. I looked at his face and I knew he wasn't. Also, I knew that if I wanted the money, I'd have to actually do what he wanted. I threw the closet thing to me, the battered clock, and it hit the closed door. Buck sure could be smart when he wanted to, but that didn't come often. I wanted to hit something and, more importantly, I wanted to hit Buck. Sometimes, mainly in the mornings, I hated that dimwitted cowboy. I swung my legs off the bed and got up, kicking anything that landed in front of my feet with venom. I was grumbling a few choice words to describe how I felt about jockeying this early. It wasn't hard work, and I sure enjoyed it on my own terms, but nobody tells Dallas Winston what to do without getting hurt. I pulled on my riding jeans and boots as well as a faded t-shirt.

Buck was locking up the bar just in case any of the other tenants made an early rise when I came down the stairs, still growling and fuming. I saw him and I just let a little of the red haze called anger take over, just enough to slug him hard in the face. His face followed the blow to the ground where he sat holding his jaw. He spit on the floor in front of him and I saw it was bloody. Then he calmly reached in his mouth and pulled out a back tooth I'd knocked loose. Serves him right. Maybe next time he'd remember never to wake me up for no good reason other than to save his own skin.

It didn't take long for us to get to the Slash J and for me to win. There was nothing fair that I liked better. Buck fixed every race, but I still gave it my all which is why I always won. I 'accidentally' whipped him with the lead when I was handing it back to him. He looked up bitterly from counting out my money and handed the lead off to another guy that took the horse back to the stalls. It was 9:00am and I wanted out now. Buck slapped eighty bucks in my hand and I stashed it in my back pocket that didn't have my blade as I was striding off. It was summer so I knew the Curtis house would be the best place to find the guys. Darry and Soda were probably at work already, but Two-Bit, Ponyboy, and Johnny should be there soon if not already. It was too early to do anything, but I was bored.

I hitched a ride there and walked right in letting the door slam shut behind me. They always left it open for us, but I would have either way. I do what I want, when I want. Two-Bit was asleep on the couch with the TV on and a half empty bottle of beer in his hand. He must have stayed the night. I reached down and plucked the bottle from him and what was left. It tasted warm and stale. Definitely from last night. Ponyboy stumbled in from down the hall looking like he just woke up. "Hey Dal," he mumbled, wiping the sleep from his eyes. Lucky kid, I bet he didn't get woken up for some stupid bet. The thought made me mad again. Nobody touches my sleep.

"Well if it ain't Mr. Sleeping Beauty. Good morning to you," I said a little harsh. He didn't deserve my biting growl, but I didn't care. I just wanted to vent.

He just blinked at me and turned to go to the kitchen. He was probably used to my mood swings by now. I heard a faint hollering down the street, it sounded like a severely hacked off lady. It was probably Johnny's mom yelling at him again. I hated that women. My blood boiled and I stormed out the door, not real fast, but sure as hell violently. I nearly took the screen door off it's hinges and I know the slam woke up Two-Bit. I cracked my knuckles as I made my way to Johnny's house, like a tiger stalking his prey. I didn't know what I was gonna do once I got there, but if Johnny had one more bruise, it wasn't gonna be pretty. I'd do anything for that stupid kid.

Johnny didn't live real far away from the Curtis house, just a few blocks. I hadn't gone half way yet when I saw a dark haired kid limping down the street with his head down and his hands buried deep in his pockets. I couldn't see him clearly yet, but I knew it was Johnny. That witch was gonna get hers. I picked up the pace and saw red. Whenever I'm real mad, all I can see is red and I lose control, nothing gets in my way. The kid looked up to see me storming his way and jumped a little, paling. He calmed down a little when I brushed right past him until he saw that I was heading to his house to beat some deadbeats. He grabbed my arm and pulled me back. If it'd been anyone but Johnny, I would have knocked him flat without hesitation, but I just couldn't. I shrugged him off roughly, but I didn't hit him. Not even when he tried again to stop me, a little more forcefully. "Don't Dally!" he said real panicky. I looked down at him and the haze slowly faded.

I was still mad as hell though. "Johnny, you let me go right now so I can kill that good for nothing -" I was cussing up a storm. He paled a little more, but the pull on my arm increased. I let him drag me back, still looking at his house, ready to let the red take over the second he let go. He didn't though and dragged me a whole block that way before I calmed enough to walk straight. I knew we were going back to the Curtis's. He only ever went to the lot to cool down when he was by himself, otherwise he always went to where the gang was. Not to mention he was still afraid I'd run back to kill his lowlife mother. He was still limping, but I couldn't see any fresh bruises, just a couple of fading ones.

He caught me looking and said quietly, "I'm fine Dally."

I wanted to say, 'And you'd be a whole lot better if you'd let me go,' but something told me that would hurt Johnny more so I just grumbled. I don't know what it was about that kid that go me so worked up. For some reason though, I just felt like he was my little brother. Hell, he was everyone's little brother, the gang's pet as Pony once said. Nobody messed with Johnny because everyone knew they'd have to deal with me, and nobody messes with me.

We walked in the door and they looked a little more awake now. Two-Bit was sitting up watching Mickey Mouse again with a fresh beer in hand. Ponyboy was in the kitchen doing the dishes, he was all dressed with hair greased. His hair didn't look right without it, his and Soda's was tuff.

Two-Bit saluted me with his beer and said, "Welcome back, Dally. I oughta thank you for waking me up so early, but I think I'll pass." If anyone needed a job, it was that lazy bum. He thought this was early? Not nearly as early as me. That calmed me down though, hearing that I made at least one person grumpy at least.

"Welcome to the land of the living, Two-Bit. Just wanted to make sure you weren't late for work," I said coolly.

He cocked his eyebrow, "Oh yeah?"

"Yeah, for being the resident drunken babysitter!" I chuckled and he grinned.

Ponyboy came in from the kitchen, drying a plate in his hands. The day I do dishes is the day I die. "Hey Johnny! How you been? Welcome back, Dally. You didn't stay gone long. Did you go get Johnny?" He looked happy to see Johnny, until Johnny limped over to go sit down. Pony looked angry and a little sad at that. He should have known that Johnny never came back from home without some token like that. He covered it up though, before Johnny could see. I don't think I was supposed to notice, but that's how we all felt whenever we saw Johnny beat up.

Johnny put up his injured foot on the coffee table next to Two-Bit, trying to look nonchalant even though we all knew. My brother- I mean, that kid could be so stubborn sometimes! If he just didn't go home, like I suggested, he wouldn't get hurt. If he just accepted the boys love instead of waiting around for his useless parents to change, he'd be happy. But did he listen to advice? No sir, not even from me or Pony and he's closer to us than anyone.

Still in his quiet voice he said, "Hey Pony. I'm doing alright man, you?"

I didn't answer Pony's question to me. I think it was pretty obvious that I went to go get Johnny. He didn't look to surprised by that, but then he had to have heard the hollering too. Maybe I was the only one who knew it was Johnny's mom. I could usually tell when something was wrong with Johnny, it was like a sixth sense or something. Not that I'd ever tell anyone, I've got a rep after all and it ain't as a softie.

They chatted for awhile, Two-Bit not alive enough yet to do more than laugh at Mickey. Noon came and went and I was bored. I didn't want Johnny and Pony to come even though it'd be a blast because I was looking for some action and I suspected it might even involve the fuzz. Why the hell not? I grabbed a beer from the fridge, chugged it, and said, "Well I'm bored out of my mind. I'm gonna go hunt some action. See y'all later!" Then I left, looking for something to do, looking for trouble.


	2. Chapter 2: Smile To The Nice Cops

A Day In The Life Of Dallas Winston

Chapter Two: Smile To The Nice Cops

**Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoy the second chapter! As always, belongs to S.E. Hinton!**

It's always a little boring looking for action alone. Yeah, you can find it, but it's just not as fun with no one to share it with. I knew just who to go see. Tim Shepard, the second toughest hood in the East Side. He and I were a lot alike in that we were both wild and reckless, but levelheaded enough when we had to be. I reckon he can stay cooler longer than me, but I enjoy giving into the red haze called anger. That's why I'm top hood, the toughest. I sometimes wonder where Tim learned to get so hard, but I don't care enough to ask him so I guess I'll never know.

I stopped by Buck's for a few drinks and to maybe catch word of where Tim was. I still haven't forgiven Buck, but the whole in his mouth told me he got the picture. Good, maybe I could sleep in tomorrow if I lay over here tonight. I'm not a big drinker of whiskey or hard stuff like that so I just downed a couple of beers and made Buck pay for them. That holey cowboy still owed me twenty bucks from a poker game last week. I figure he owed me. It was pretty slow, it still being early afternoon, but I saw Curly, Tim's brother, playing pool with one of the guys in their gang. I didn't know his friend very well so he must not have been a hood worth mentioning. I grabbed the guy's pool stick and hit for him, messing up his game. Curly complained, "Hey, man, you just screwed up a perfectly good game!I was up ten bucks already!" Curly was as stupid a hood as I knew, but he was tough enough.

"Yeah? Wanna pay me that then and I'll leave you alone." I didn't really care about the money, I can always steal if I need it or just steal what I want without messing with the cash. The only reason I got up this morning was because I enjoy the horses. There's nothing that I need, I always get whatever I want.

Curly looked like he wanted to start something, but he knew better. Like I said, he was dumb but tough enough, meaning he had some street smarts at least. Rule number one: don't take on more than you can handle. He wouldn't have a prayer against me and he knew it. He whined, "But Dally-"

I waved him off with a smack to the head. Nothing more than a playful tap between two greasers. Tim would throw a fit if I knocked his kid brother around too much and then I wouldn't have anybody to get into trouble with. "Shut up, Curly, I don't want your cash," he looked relieved, "I just want to know where I can find your brother."

Curly went back to his lost game of pool. "Home, probably. He's probably still asleep. Stumbled in pretty loudly around four this morning." Excellent, another person that didn't sleep! I don't know why that made me so happy, but it did. Good to know I wasn't the only suffering.

I nodded and started to walk away, but then I grabbed his whiskey from the side of the table and took a swig before setting it back down and left with, "Oh, and Curly, don't you know it ain't right to hustle against somebody in your own gang?" Curly looked surprised and the other guy looked pretty mad at that. I knew I'd called it. I sure could be mean, not that I was ever 'nice.'

Then I kept walking and hitched most of the way to the Shepard's. Their house was always trashed, looking more like a junkyard than a home. I don't know where it came from, but it was always like that. I looked in the window to their living room which was right by the front door. Tim was crashed in a recliner and his sister, Angela, was sprawled out on the couch watching the cracked TV. Slow morning at the Shepard's. I waited for the usual noise, there was always fights and crashes and whatnot there. Then I heard the general clatter of something breaking and Tim's father hollering at somebody so I went right in. Angela straightened up when I walked in, not that she was my type anyway, but she wasn't the kind of girl that was choosey. I kicked Tim's recliner which made it jump fold up, shooting Tim up out of the chair.

"Dammit, Dallas! You were anyone else and I'd have dropped you!" he looked more surprised than pissed which I took as an invitation.

"I'm bored, Tim. You gonna hunt some action with me or what?"

He ran a hand through his greased up hair. "Why not?" He stood up and we left. It never was hard to convince Tim Shepard to get into trouble.

He requested that we stop by Buck's though so he could get rid of his hangover. Begrudgingly, I agreed. Tim downed three shots of whiskey, yelled at his brother for hustling at Buck's instead of some place I hadn't heard of, and then we were off again. We walked down the street punching out streetlights just for the hell of it. There wasn't much to do this time of day so we kept walking until we hit the Dingo. There was a lots of action going down there.

Some kid, he looked like a homeless hitchhiker or something, was laying on the ground surrounded by people. We joined the onlookers and saw a growing puddle of blood spill out of the boy. He looked about fifteen or sixteen, Pony's and Johnny's age. There was a guy a couple yards away sitting with his knees curled up. He was staring at a knife, dripping with blood, in his hand. He looked pale and shaken up. Something about the dying kid bothered me. It made my blood boil just a little bit, red creeping around the edges of my vision.

I grabbed the guy by the shirt and pulled him up to yell in his face, "Why'd you knife him, huh?"

Tim stood right by me, going along with it, cracking his knuckles. He didn't care who or why, he just wanted someone to beat on just like me. The guy paled even more so I knew I was gonna get an answer I wanted. It had to be something stupid, please have killed him over something stupid. The guy sputtered quietly, "I-I he tried to steal from me. Food, he just wanted some food. I-I didn't mean to, it just got out of control." YES! It was something stupid, which was exactly what I wanted to hear.

I shoved the guy at Tim who got him and help him by the arms so I could pound him. I let the red haze creep just a little further, not enough to cover my vision, just enough to cloud it a little. Then I let the guy have it. By the time I was done, his face was swollen and bleeding. Tim shoved him at me, his was off balance so it wasn't hard to grab him and hold him just the same. I had my arms looped around his so even though he couldn't hold his own weight, I kept him up. Tim beat on his torso and I heard a few tiny cracks along with the guys labored breathing and cries. I dropped him, he lay there crumpled and moaning, just as the cops pulled in the parking lot. I could closely hear the sound of another siren, the ambulance for the kid. I looked over and saw someone trying to stop the bleeding. At least someone was trying to save him.

I grabbed Tim's sleeve and we beat it out of there, one of the fuzz hot on our tail. They saw us beat on that guy and probably thought we stabbed the kid too. Even with my long record, I never killed anybody, not even in New York. We went around the back and jumped on the dumpster to hop over the tall wooden fence. We dropped down and ran across the field, looking back only once. That cop was too chicken to jump over the fence! On the other side of the field, we were cracking up with our hands on our knees and breathing heavily. I was probably around four now. Damn, life's hard when you get up before the sun. There's nothing to do!

I stood up, calming down a little. Tim was doing the same, trying to think about what next. "Let's go find a Soc to jump!" I'm not sure who said it, but we shared an evil grin and stalked down the street. It was a long hike across town to the West Side, but the Socs only came to our side to jump us, so why not?

Greasers like us never catch a break though. The same officers at the Dingo pulled up right in front of us, cutting us off. They jumped out and searched us before throwing us in the back of the squad car. We hadn't even made it to neutral territory yet. It figures. I thought of how Two-Bit was always cracking jokes to the fuzz when they caught him. That made me smile a manic grin. Tim punched me in the shoulder thinking I was cracking. The cop looking at us in the rear-view mirror saw and turned around to face me. "What's so funny, Winston? You're suspected of murder or at the very least assault and battery." They all knew me, but I only remembered a few of their names.

Still grinning like a mad man, I laughed, "Nothing, just how Tim here used to go with your wife!" His name was Officer Stanton.


	3. Chapter 3: Don't Mess With Dally

**Don't Mess With Dally**

**Property of S.E. Hinton! Enjoy!**

'I'm bored,' was what I was thinking as I lay on the top bunk, throwing a ball up in the air at the ceiling of my cell. That was the worst part of jail, all the spare time with nothing to do but be bored and think. Sure, the people and the food isn't real great, but you didn't deal with that half as much as you dealt with the time. They didn't end up charging us with anything and let Tim go, but only because the guy we beat up confessed and didn't press charges. Smart man, he knows when we got out, we'd have killed his ass. The only reason I was still here, a week later, was because I insulted a police officer. I doubt there's actually a law that says that anyway, but I didn't know what else I'd be in for this time. I only had to do one more night before they were letting me go. This was easy, and boring.

I heard a loud clink as the metal cell door was unlocked and in came an unexpected cellmate. Curly Shepard of all people. He was shoved in before they locked the door back up behind him. He was spitting some choice words at the door, probably something he picked up from Tim. He didn't know I was in here. "Curly Shepard!" I shouted as I hopped down, making the kid pale until he turned around. His color only returned slightly when he saw it was me. 'Smart kid,' I thought, but then continued, "What the hell are you doing here, man? Your brother know you're here?" The color was lost again.

That reminded me of the first time I met Curly. _It was shortly after I first came to Tulsa and met Tim. I liked Tim, he was a tuff hood and reminded me of myself. We'd hung out a few times before, but this time he wanted me to meet his gang, not that I had any interest in joining. They all seemed decent enough hoods, but dull. Tim introduced me to his brother, who was may have only been eleven. He wanted to look tough in front of his big brother so he playfully tried to tease me. Boy did he regret that! "Now listen good cause I'm only gonna say this once, ya hear? I don't know you. And since I don't know you, I don't like you. Since I don't like you, I'm tempted to beat the shit out of you. And since I'm tempted to beat the shit out of you, there's a chance I could lose my temper. And if I lose my temper, then I could kill you. So, since there's a chance I could kill you, you best start showing me some damn respect, ya dig?" I said it all very deadpan, expression carefully blank. Inside I was howling with laughter at the kid's expression. He had been terrified! _

Curly just snorted like he didn't care, "If not yet, he will soon. Got caught slashing some Socs' tires." His chest swelled with pride and the color came back. It seemed like a dumb thing to go to jail over, but I let the kid have his moment.

"Good for you, kid. Tim say anything about me?" If Tim blamed me for his one night in jail, I'd rather know before he found me.

Curly flushed some. "Yeah," he mumbled. "And he told me if I saw you to give you something..." Then he swung and slugged me in the jaw, my head snapping to the side. Lights burst in my eyes with the pain and the red haze crept into my vision. I couldn't say I was surprised, Curly did anything his brother told him and Tim wasn't subtle. He couldn't just send a note or something saying he's pissed, he had to send someone to punch him. Of course, Tim was bright enough to send his own brother, someone I couldn't kill without Tim's killing me. Doesn't mean the kid wasn't gonna pay for that. Nobody gets away with that.

Curly was ashen and he knew he was gonna die. It was written all over his face. I grabbed his arm and pushed it behind his back, close to breaking it like a twig. He cried out and his face contorted as I pushed just a little harder. Then I banged his head against the metal frame of the bunk bed and let him collapse against the concrete wall. There was a gash bleeding freely from his forehead, running down his face. He was pale as a sheet and his eyes were glassy. I rolled me eyes at him as he weakly put a hand up to try and stanch the blood. "Curly, snap out of it. It's just a head wound. You're fine. Honestly, I thought Tim's brother would be tougher than that," I growled.

I didn't want the kid dying on me, that'd do wonders for Tim's friendship, so I started banging on the metal door until the metal slot opened and a guard irritably asked what I wanted. "Kid needs the infirmary or he's gonna bleed to death!" Curly made a choked sound in his throat. It almost made me feel bad, but I pushed that away. The door clicked open and a couple guards carried him out on a stretcher. Finally, I was alone again.

The next morning I was lucky not to have had my stay extended, but Curly was smart enough to not rat me out. He said he tripped. He got some stitches and was fine, minus the headache and minor shock. It didn't bother me at all because he deserved it. If he didn't want to get hurt, he wouldn't have done what Tim asked. Common sense tells you, 'Never mess with Dallas Winston.' So I was let out on time and walked back to the Curtis house. It took awhile, but it wasn't the first time I'd made that walk. I wasn't going to call and ask them for a lift, especially when they were probably all working.

I opened the door and walked right in as always. Two-Bit was sitting on the floor with some chocolate cake in his lap and a beer in his hand watching Mickey Mouse, again. Johnny was asleep on the couch and Pony must have still been sleeping because I didn't seem him anywhere. "Hey, hey, Dal!" shouted Two-Bit when he saw who it was. Johnny sat up, rubbed his eyes and stared blankly at me for a few moments. "Hey, Dally! You're out!"

I grinned at him as I walked over to smack Two-Bit in the back of the head for waking Johnny. "Hey!" he called. "Yeah, I'm out. Johnny, man, how ya been?"

Johnny grinned back, "Pretty good. Heard you turned Two-Bit on a cop!" They laughed.

I chuckled, "I sure did! Man, I couldn't just sit there and not say anything about how he was arresting the guy that went used to date his wife!" That got them howling with laughter, and me too, remembering the cop's stricken red face. I looked up and saw Pony standing in the hall, clutching his sides from laughter. Two-Bit sure knew how to wake a house, but it sure was a hell of a nice way to wake up.


	4. Chapter 4: The Gang And I

A Day In The Life Of Dallas Winston

Chapter Four: The Gang And I

**All rights to S.E. Hinton! Thanks for reading and reviews are appreciated! **

The day passed uneventfully. The guys were all glad I was back and more amused by my stunt than some of Two-Bit's wisecracks at the fuzz. It was pretty great, even though I'd loathe myself if I ever became a second Two-Bit. He's a great buddy to have around and all, keeps things interesting, but not as tough as he makes out to be. I mean, a guy that needs to drink before _anything_ can't have that much gut, right? He was like Steve in that way, not as tough as the tales. Steve was a tough hood, but he was always trying to play the good guy part. If he let out half as much anger as he had locked away inside, he'd probably be a lot more like Tim and me. Smart, tough, and hard. Then the others, they weren't even as tough as Two-Bit and Steve. Ponyboy could hold his own, but he was the kid that kept his head in the clouds. Darry, he was hard, but he was too cold and more like them Socs. I respected him, but more because he was a good man to have on your side. Then there was Johnny-jumpy little Johnny... He could fight well enough, but he was scared of a lot of things because of those no good, drunk cheap, spineless, worthless things he called parents. Just thinking about them makes my blood boil, but thinking of Johnny makes the anger fade away. He didn't deserve what they dished out and he refused to fight back. Maybe that's why I felt so responsible for him, because he wouldn't fight for himself and someone should. Why that someone had to be me when he had the whole gang, I couldn't say. I'd never admit how Johnny was like my kid brother, the only thing I really cared to care about.

The TV was turned up loud, battling with the radio in the kitchen where Steve and Soda were playing poker. Darry was back from work and was starting dinner. He knew we'd all be staying for food so he didn't bother asking. We practically all lived at the Curtis house, even Two-Bit spent more time here than at his house and he had a pretty good home life. Johnny was sitting with me and Pony on the couch while Two-Bit was down on the floor. His ankle was just sprained when I got hauled off and had healed up during the week. Just sitting around watching TV was boring the hell out of me and I'd only sat this long because it was Johnny seemed to want to do. He didn't talk much or offer many opinions unless asked.

I sighed and said, "Hey, y'all want to go down to the Dingo with me? Or maybe go sneak into the Nightly Double?"

Johnny's eyes lit up from under his bangs. "Yeah, sure, I'll go with you, Dally. What go ya think, Pony? Wanna go with us?"

Two-Bit raised his hand and nodded while swallowing down his beer. He was in. Pony called out to Darry and Darry said only after dinner. I said I could wait that long. Everyone else seemed to hop on board then. Even Darry who never did anything when he had work in the morning. I found it amusing that they thought I meant before food, as if I ate any less than the rest of them. We finished the chicken and potatoes in record time and headed out. It was nice enough out, but we all had out jackets with us anyway, made us look tougher.

Darry didn't approve of us sneaking in under the fence, but he didn't want to waste the money they needed either so he crawled in after us. I saw him eyeing Pony, discontent with the familiarity his brother seemed to use getting in here. I showed the kid the hole a few years back and I smirked, knowing he used it more than I did. There was hope for that kid yet. We moved on to the seats for people without cars and settled in. They were more beach movies with the cute girls in bikinis, not that I cared much to watch. Movies were boring, but watching the people and possibly making some trouble was fun. There were as many Socs as there were greasers which led to a lot of fights. Fights, I loved.

Fighting the Socs reminded me of all those fun times in New York, beating rival gangs and whoever else. There were plenty of gangs to hate in New York, but here I could only take my anger out on the Socs. That was almost better though, bigger. There was a whole society I could beat down instead of just a random gang of ten or so guys. It made our gang seem bigger too because all us greasers here in Tulsa banded together against the Socs. Rumbles like that were the best, but most of the time it was just me jumping them or them trying to jump them until the next rumble. Both sides didn't appreciate the jumping, but most of the time it wasn't too serious.

That was a fun night even without the violence. We stayed in our seats throwing popcorn at the people in front of us and howling with laughter at the jokes we took turns cracking. We ignored the dirty looks people were giving us and then we'd start in on those people with popcorn and inappropriate remarks, chiefly by me, but the gang surprised me by joining in. Even Pony joined in at one time before getting a smack to the head by his oldest brother. I just laughed at the kid who turned red from embarrassment, but he grinned anyway. It was a good joke.

The movie ended too soon with nothing to do, but part ways. Steve and Two-Bit would be heading home, Two-Bit probably after hunting down some more booze. Darry had to get up in the morning so the Curtis house would be winding down. I hoped Johnny stayed with them or at the lot, so I asked him. "Where you headed tonight, Johnny?" We were all walking together for now.

He shrugged, "I don't know yet. Depends on if my folks is fighting or not."

I frowned. "I don't want you staying there even if they ain't, you know. The Curtis's have been asking you to just stay at their place for awhile anyway. I don't know why you don't take them up on it." We had this talk every time, but most of the time he ended up not listening to me.

He nodded. Quietly, he said, "Yeah, I know. I might just stay at the lot. I don't want to leech on them, ya dig? We're over there all the time as it is."

I growled, "Not like the mind, you stubborn kid." We'd had this talk too many times before for me to think he'd ever change his answer. Not that I'd stop trying, but I knew it was a lost cause.

He didn't say anything to that and put his head down. I didn't mean to hurt his feelings. I just wanted him to stay safe. I couldn't bring myself to say it though, like so many times before, so I playfully punched him on the shoulder and got a small Johnny smile. I draped my arm across his shoulders and we continued until the lot. The Curtis brothers kept going with a goodbye and a wave. Steve goodbye and went on to collect money from his dad for kicking him out again. Two-Bit bragged more on this number he got from a cute blond and then, as predicted, went off to hunt some booze before going home. I walked with Johhny the rest of the way to the lot and we settled in, me sitting up and him sprawled out on some newspapers he collected as a makeshift bed. We talked for awhile about nothing in particular like usual and he drifted off to sleep. Part of me hated leaving him here to sleep, so out in the open, but I knew he'd done it many times before and it didn't bother him. I watched him for awhile, thinking again how I thought of him as my little brother. Then, making sure he was set, I went off for Buck's. I'd offer Johnny a place to stay there, but I knew it wouldn't be right for him. The bar and parties were loud and sometimes rough and not to mention the upstairs wasn't ever much better.

Another party was going on, as if to prove my point. Hank Williams, yet again blaring. Hank saw me walk in and staggered over to me. "Welcome back, Dal! Can't wait for you to get back to it," he slurred. I punched him in the shoulder for getting in my personal space. "Buck, you wake me up early again and I'll make you beat more than a tooth out of ya," I warned darkly. I wasn't itching for a repeat of last week. I left him with that and went upstairs to my room and collapsed on the bed. It was a good day, but I felt like tomorrow wouldn't be as great. It was just a bad feeling, but it didn't set well with me. I turned off my emotions and passed out on the cheap bed with Hank Williams trying to invade my dreams.


	5. Chapter 5: Brother Johnny

A Day In The Life Of Dallas Winston

Chapter : Brother Johnny

**Okay, here it is, the final chapter. All rights go to S.E. Hinton. Please review! All feedback is welcome! **

_Charlie and I were walking down the walk after lifting some necessities for the gang. The rundown building fronts and polluted city air screamed New York. We were taking some first aid supplies and food back to our hangout. The last rumble had whipped us all good and we'd only just barely won. Charlie and I were the least banged up with bruises everywhere, a black eye, a broken nose, busted and bruised knuckles, bruised ribs, and broken toes. Kicking the shit out of people isn't such a great idea in worn down sneakers. They others had the bright idea of wearing worn down steel-toed boots. _

_I was telling Charlie about how they showed us up and made us look like lower life hoods when a shadow grabbed me by the jacket and hauled me into the alley between the brick buildings. Charlie followed after me and the guy. He tossed me into the wall which pissed me off. I smiled darkly, barely noting that it was the leader from the gang we just beat down. Four more of his boys came up behind him and grabbed Charlie. Even in their busted up shape, they outnumbered us. I escaped the leader's grasp with a knee to the gut and swiftly knocked out one of the grunts by slamming his head into the wall. We tried to fight, but they weren't happy our gang whipped their asses so as I'm cussing a blue streak at them and trying to help Charlie who's getting beaten to a pulp, I'm also getting knocked around more. Finally, I hear them drop my buddy, who doesn't get up, and see a flash of light as I get hit once too many in the head. I also drop into unconsciousness._

I wake up to an empty room. My few possessions are spread out right where I left them, but nobody woke me up. I busted the clock when I threw it at Buck last week so I had no way of knowing the time, but it looked like a decent hour of about twelve. That wouldn't leave too much time that I'd have to kill out of boredom.

I swing my legs over and sit up, my feet on the cold floor. I rub my eyes and stretch, thinking about my dream. New York sure was tough, but I think Charlie's death was the only thing that got to me. I blocked it out of course, but there aren't as many defenses when you're asleep so when you're awake, you have to build them back up again. I push back the swirl of emotions in me and force myself to forget about Charlie. Forget about him being a pal, forget him teaching you how to survive, forget him bailing you out of jail, forget him...forget... And so I did.

I grab a shirt hanging on the bed post and put it on real quick so I can get moving. I don't like sitting still in one place for long. My jacket was hanging on the back of the cheap chair in the corner of the room and I grabbed that too before heading out. Buck's was quiet this early, but I didn't talk to him and he didn't talk to me so I just kept walking and out the door.

I walked for awhile a made it to the Dingo. There were a few guys I knew so I chatted with them. Word was that everyone was shocked that I stood up for that kid last week. I was mad that was the rumor. I grabbed a handful of the shirt the guy was wearing and hissed, "Oh yeah? That's what they're saying went down, huh?" He nodded, trying his best not to look scared. Louder I said angrily, "Well make sure you set it straight: I wasn't doing it for the kid, I was doing it as an excuse to beat up somebody. I don't give a rat's ass about some kid dying in the dirt. Hell, I wouldn't give a damn if it were my old man. The only thing I do is look out for number one- me." I pointed at myself for extra measure and shoved the guy back. I think he got the point and would be fixing the rumor mill from here. I looked around at the people staring at me. The fun was over, time to move on. I continued to seethe and stormed away. I was good at making scenes and then pretending I didn't care because I didn't.

Johnny greeted me from the Curtis porch. He and Pony were out sitting on the steps and chain smoking. Pony looked annoyed at something which explained why they weren't in the house. It was a nice enough day out, but that wasn't something they did. "Hey guys. What's up?" I ask, motioning towards Pony's smoke.

He didn't look at me, he was still busy staring off at a spot in the grass. "Smoking, what's it look like?" he quipped. It wasn't like him to get snippy like that. It wasn't like any of the gang to get snippy with me, let alone the youngest and shiest member. Suddenly he looked up at me and paled, remembering that.

To live up to my image I smacked him hard across the back of the head, but I wasn't really mad. "No shit, Sherlock. I mean what's got your panties in a twist?" He and Johnny were my closest pals in the gang, although I don't know why. We couldn't be more different, but I always found myself hanging out with the two of them and trying to get them to follow my evil ways. I was glad I wasn't rubbing off on them though, they wouldn't be special if they started taking after me. Especially not Ponyboy because we all knew that kid was going somewhere and I refused to be the one to get in the way of that.

He sighed and blew out the smoke. "Nothing, just me and Darry not getting along is all." His face was expressionless, shut down.

This shocked me. I didn't think there was anything stronger than the Curtis brothers. I took what had to have been his fifth straight cigarette and took a hit. "Since when do you and muscles not get along?"

His head shot up and I could see anger desperately trying to be let out. The kid was too smart for that though and we both knew it. Johnny was getting antsy though so he stepped in. "Look, Dal, they've just been arguing a lot lately. Things have been hard since," he swallowed hard, "the accident. It's all talk though, Darry would never actually hurt Pony."

Mr. and Mrs. Curtis's accident was hard on all of us. They were the parents we all wished we had, minus Two-Bit. I always thought that would make the brothers grow stronger, not fall apart. Johnny was right, Darry would never hurt either of his brothers. "You want me to talk to him?"

He looked embarrassed. "No! We're just not getting along, it's fine. It's nothing I can't handle."

I shrugged, not about to get into it with a 13 year-old kid. It was his business. "Whatever. Just tell one of us if you need us to step in. We've all got too many problems for you Curtis' to fall apart. Seriously, your house is practically Johnny and Steve's too."

He nodded, looking shameful. I'm sure that his innocent self was probably thinking it was wrong for him to bitch when the rest of us have it so much worse. He was right. He had brothers that loved him, a safe house to live in, school, and a bright future while the rest of us had shit, again minus Matthews. I was a young hood with an all around shitty life, dad who could care less about me, never knew my mom, arrested at age ten, living in the streets in New York, coming to Tulsa, gang fights and then the never ending fight against the Socs, no address. Johnny had two abusive drunk parents who had never shown him a speck of love. Steve had a drunk father who kicked him out every other week, mother long left. Even Matthews had a father he never knew and a mother he barely saw because she worked so hard to support two kids. All Pony had to complain about was two dead parents that everyone loved and now an older brother he 'argued' with. No, he had no right to complain.

Johnny wouldn't feel the same way, but I knew Pony and I got it. I didn't have to say a word which was rare because he and I weren't that close. He and Johnny were, but not me. Johnny flicked away his cancer stick and we went inside. Darry was at work and so was Soda and Steve. Two-Bit probably hadn't even rolled out of bed yet. It was just us three. I flicked on the TV but there wasn't anything on so I got out the cards and we sat playing poker for a few hours. We bet cancer sticks since none of us were working. My gig at the Slash J wasn't exactly permanent, more like a pay as you show up kind of deal. Pony had the worst poker face, but Johnny ended up winning most hands. I couldn't ever figure out how he cheated, but he had a knack for the game. I was proud of him for it, not that I'd ever say it.

About four, I left. I wanted to go shoot some pool, but I knew they weren't supposed to be around Buck's. Besides, another couple hours and Darry or Soda would be getting off work and I'd probably come back. I didn't want to babysit the kids the whole day. When I got there I saw Tim and- well look who got out early- Curly playing a game. Curly had stitches on his forehead and I smirked. He paled when he noticed me watching the game and took a step back. Tim looked over his shoulder at me.

"You son of a bitch! You hurt my brother, Winston!" Tim comes up to me and glares, ready to take a swing at me. I forgot he was mad at me.

I shrug. "He deserved it. Shoulda known better than to punch me in the face. It's my best feature, y'know." I smirk.

He chuckles, his anger slowly fading. I didn't think he'd be mad at me for long considering he was the one that put his brother up to it in the first place. "Winston, you have no best feature."

"And I'm still better looking than you, Tim!" Even Curly laughs at that, despite being extra weary of me.

He glares at me, but then lets up a smile. "Okay, Dally, I'll play yah for it. You win, I'm better looking. I win, you're better looking."

I narrow my eyes and take Curly's cue stick. He lets me and sits on the empty table next to us. "You slimy greaser. You just know you can't win any other way." He knows I hate losing and he set it up so there is no way to win. However, I can't say no to something like that. Tim smiles at me, but doesn't say anything. I break and he shoots solids while I take stripes. Halfway through the game, I'm still trying to figure out which game I want to win. I look up at the window and see the sun starting to set. I have an uneasy feeling growing in my stomach. Something's not right and it's not with me. "Let's finish this some other time, Tim." I say seriously.

Tim looks up. "What, can't handle the competition?" He stares closely at me, just as serious. He shrugs, "Whatever. You know where to find me when you're ready for me to say 'I win.'"

I laugh uneasily. "Yeah, whatever you say, Tim." I nod to Curly who takes my place and leave. I want to see Johnny. I try to hitch a ride, but nobody is stupid enough to give a hood like me a ride so I jog to the neighborhood. It's a good fifteen to twenty minutes before I reach his house, but his parents are fighting so I doubt that he's here. I walk, with a growing sense of dread, towards the Curtis's. Something's not right. Where's Johnny? I want Johnny. I need to make sure he's okay. Up ahead I see Soda and Steve break into a run towards the lot. I'm still pretty far away, but I run the rest of the way getting there about the same time as Darry, Pony, and Two-Bit.

I don't understand what I'm seeing. Why isn't Johnny here? Soda and Steve are crouched on the ground by a dark lump on the ground. Soda gently rolls it over, it's Johnny! I have to look away. He's beat up beyond anything I've ever seen, even in New York. Charlie had been beaten to death and even he hadn't looked this bad. No, no, no! It can't be, please don't be Johnny! You can't be dead!

He groans. I whip around to look at back at him and ignore his wounds. I focus just on the fact that he's alive. He's alive. He's going to be okay. He stirs in his state unconsciousness and Soda hold him. I wish I was in his place, but for so many stupid reasons I can't. I'm at war inside myself between pain over Johnny, my brother, and vengeance for Johnny. It was so obviously the Socs. I couldn't believe they would come this far into our turf and do something like this. That was more than ballsy, that was suicidal. I had to make sure that Johnny was okay before I could do anything though. He was my number one priority and I hated that! I hated that he was hurt and I hated that I couldn't do anything about it.

"S-Soda?" Johnny called weakly. His small voice had so much fear and pain, I wanted to puke. There was nothing I could do to comfort him, I couldn't control myself to do that. He couldn't even open his eyes because of the swelling. Soda answered softly just like he would to Pony when he was sick. Soda knew how to take care of things like this, he knew how to comfort people he cared about. I didn't and it made me sick. I started pacing behind the gang angrily as Johnny started sobbing and choked out his story. I wanted to rip him out of Soda's arms and place him in my own, to comfort him, to take his pain away, but I couldn't. I was afraid of hurting him worse and I couldn't even find my voice. I wanted to go and rip out every last Socs throat and then find the ones who did this and make them suffer a slow and agonizing death, but I couldn't because Johnny needed me. He needed all of us right now and there was no way I could leave him. There was no way I would leave him because all I could do right now was give him my presence to show him I cared and if I couldn't do that, then what right did I have to call him my brother, even if only in my head and not aloud?

We took him back to the house. He passed out as soon as Darry picked him up and I would have pounced on him if the gang hadn't held me back. I'd have let him put Johnny down first, but I guess they didn't want me killing Darry either. We quickly rushed into the house and he put Johnny down on the sofa. I crouched down next to him and did what I had wanted to do since we found him, comfort him in some way. I held his limp hand. He still hadn't woken yet, but that was probably best because Darry was cleaning his wounds. He winced and flinched a few times, but I don't think he was awake for any of it. I counted each time though and kept a mental note to punch something for every one. He had a few cracked ribs, tons of bruises, and a cut on his cheek that would stay with him all his life. The swelling was starting to go down at least which was a good sign. The others all stayed close by and crashed here, but I stayed by his side the whole night.

He never said who did which pissed me off, but I knew he was just trying to protect us rather than them. We'd get jailed for murder if we ever did find them. That was a promise. They'd be dead before they hit the dirt because I'd kill them and I knew the gang would either help me or egg me on. Nobody messes with Dallas Winston and nobody messes with Dallas Winston's brother, Johnny Cade.


End file.
